Light and Dark
by vivi749
Summary: First multi chapter story I've done. Basically Nate finds out Sophie slept with Eliot during season 1. How does he react?
1. Light and Dark

I don't own Leverage *sniffle*

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><p>"So, did you send them, or did you just tell him which ones I liked?" Sophie leaned up against the counter and watched Eliot's body language.<p>

Eliot used every bit of control he had to not react to her question, although all he could think was 'busted'. "I don't know what you're talking about darlin'." He took a swig from his beer.

She wondered if she ought to tell him that having absolutely no reaction was more telling than a lie. Not that either one mostly mattered; she read people so well that she would have seen through both. "Come on Eliot. Nate knows a lot of things about me, up to and including my dress size and what toothpaste I use, but he doesn't know that. I've never told him. And while it is possible that he guessed right, it's unlikely."

"Who's to say Hardison didn't send them both? After all, if he'd sent Parker flowers from him but not sent you some from Nate, then Nate would have been pissed at him."

"I saw the look on Hardison's face Eliot. He had no idea. Besides, he doesn't know what kind of flowers I like. You do."

"Among other things." It wasn't really an admission of guilt, but it was a concession to her logic.

"Yeah." Sophie walked over and sat down on the couch. He followed, after grabbing another beer from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and handed it to her. "Thanks. Though I really shouldn't drink this. You know how many calories there are in one bottle of beer?"

He shook his head. The woman was quite possibly skinnier than Parker and she worried about one frickin' beer. "You look perfect. You always do. Besides, one beer isn't going to do you any harm."

"Thanks Eliot," she said. "But it's more about the habit than the beer. You do something enough, you get used to it. Then you have a hard time stopping." Thoughts of Nate and his alcoholism threatened to break through, but she pushed them back. She'd tried saving him in the past, and it hadn't worked. So instead she'd told him that he could save himself. He was working on it, but sometimes she still felt like strangling him for taking so long.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and his voice was quiet when he spoke. "Are you ever going to tell him?"

She looked over. He was peeling at the label of his beer. "I don't know," she admitted softly. "I know for a fact if I do he's going to be pissed off, but more importantly, he'll be genuinely hurt. And that seems like an awful thing to do to someone who's suffered as much as he has."

"I'm not saying I care if you do Sophie. It's just... I'd want to know, if it was me. What if he finds out somehow on his own? You and I can both understand it, but he's not always the most rational person in the room." They both smiled at that. It was an understatement.

"I'm afraid," she said. He looked at her. "What if he can't understand? What we had, what we did, I needed it. Badly. But what if all he sees is that I slept with you, and to hell with whether I had good reasons? What if he walks away?"

"He won't." Eliot's voice was filled with conviction.

"You can't know that."

"Yeah, Sophie, I can. I know you, and I know Nate. I know men in general, actually. He might be pissed, and maybe he'll always blame you a bit, but he's as trapped by you as you are by him. You have that effect," he said ruefully.

Both of them looked over at the door when they heard footsteps in the hallway. Eliot had been a bit shocked at how good Sophie's hearing was when he'd first found out about it. He'd said something under his breath (about her) and she'd punished him for almost two days before he'd given up and asked what the problem was. She'd calmly informed him that he should be a little more careful about what he said even if it was under his breath, unless he knew for a fact that no one could hear him. And then she'd quoted him, word for word. That time he'd needed all his creativity and charm to get back into her good graces.

Nate walked in and started emptying out the pockets of his pants and sweater. It never ceased to amaze the team just how many things he managed to collect at the end of the day. Not just ordinary stuff like keys, money, and gum wrappers, but other objects too, like dice, bits of strings, those little Indian rubber balls you can get at the corner store, and (their second favourite so far) eighteen pesos. However, the running favourite had actually happened last year on a trip to South America. They were all sitting around talking when, no word of a lie, a _lizard_ had crawled out of his shirt pocket. Sophie, who'd been sitting beside him on the couch, had freaked out. Nate on the other hand, had calmly picked it up and taken it outside. He denied having put it there himself. Needless to say, the team hadn't believed him.

"So, anything interesting today?" Sophie tossed the comment at him as she walked by to put her bottle in the recycle bin. Nate held up a piece of Lego. Sophie cracked up.

"How the hell did I get this?" he asked with a puzzled look. Probably the funniest part of the whole deal was that Nate really didn't remember how stuff made it into his pockets. They all figured he was just a magnet for weird stuff; after all, how else to explain all the strange things that happened during otherwise perfectly normal jobs?

"You know Nate, maybe you have multiple personality disorder. That would explain why you don't remember," Sophie laughed at him.

"I do not have multiple personalities. One is all I need." He gave her a cocky grin.

"More than. You forgot to put the words 'more than' in that sentence," Eliot said.

Sophie expected Nate to answer back with a snarky comment but he didn't. Well that pretty much proved her right about the flowers. He didn't want to piss Eliot off because he was afraid of what Eliot might say.

"I'm going home guys. See ya." Eliot grabbed his jacket and headed out.

"What about you? You sticking around for a while? Hardison and Parker left too. I think for one night we may just have the apartment to ourselves." Nate looked over.

"You're just hoping to continue where we left off last night." Sophie smiled.

"Not _just_. Believe it or not, I do actually enjoy your company as well as the sex."

"Mmm. That's reassuring." She boosted herself up onto the counter. "Come here." It wasn't quite a request. He thought about arguing for about half a second. Well, maybe a quarter of a second. He walked over to her and stood between her legs as she pulled him into a kiss. Her hands were in his hair, pulling slightly. He loved that feeling.

"Tell me you aren't just teasing this time," he said, pulling back and looking at her.

"No. I'm definitely not." After all, there was only so long she could stand to stay away from him, and to hell with what point it was supposed to prove. Besides, he had done what she'd asked. Actually, it was almost as if he'd taken the list of things she'd told him she liked and used it word for word. "Did you deliberately follow that list of stuff I gave you when you took me out today Nate?"

"Well yeah. Since, you know, you were kind enough to hand it to me on a silver platter and all. But I'd like to think I did it with a certain amount of charm." He hadn't been too happy with her about her implying that he needed tips from some other guy last night. He wasn't lying when he said he'd done all of that before. He'd had to. Did she think Maggie had just fallen into bed with him?

She kissed him again, adding a bit of tongue to it this time. He moaned softly. Even after he'd jacked off last night he still hadn't slept well. He never did unless she was in his bed. She did something, and he wasn't sure what, but it helped keep away the nightmares. It helped take away some of the sting from some of his memories too, made it easier to think of the good stuff instead of the bad. He reached behind her, intent on removing her shirt, and she stopped his hands. Well hello déjà vu, he thought. Haven't seen you in almost a whole day. Wondered where you went.

"Nate, I'm not stripping off in your kitchen. You never know if one of the others might walk in." She pushed against his chest and then slid off the counter. "Come on," she said, and led him up the stairs.

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><p>Two days later:<p>

"Hey," Sophie said as she walked in. Nate was sitting at the kitchen table and reading the paper. He didn't look up at her comment. "You know Nate, you're supposed to say hello back when someone says hi to you." He continued reading. She decided she didn't like it, so she walked over and pulled the paper out of his hands. He didn't grab for it, just let it go and picked up the glass in front of him. She turned the bottle that was on the table around and read the label. "Whiskey, Nate? For breakfast? What the hell?" He still didn't look at her. "If you aren't going to tell me then I'm going to start guessing," she said angrily. "And I doubt you'll enjoy it. So what the fuck?"

He finally looked up. And she saw betrayal in his eyes. The only time she'd ever seen him look like this was when she'd gone to the rehab centre after he'd tried to escape. But this was way worse. It was as if she was a stranger, as if they weren't even friends, never mind lovers.

"You should have told me." He dropped his eyes back to the glass in his hand.

"Told you what Nate?" Okay, she now had an idea what this was about, but she was hoping like hell she was wrong.

"Don't play games with me Sophie. I'm not in the mood for that shit. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, well, I'm a criminal Nate. You think I'm just going to confess to something when I don't know what I'm being accused of?" She pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Why? How many other secrets do you have that I'd be pissed about?"

"Lots. There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Nate, and trust me when I tell you that it's for the best. Besides, you have a lot of them too. And I don't expect you to tell me everything."

He stood up and walked a bit unsteadily towards the stairs. She watched him, but made no move to follow. He stopped when he got there however and pulled something off one of the steps. His laptop. Walking back over, he set it down and flipped up the lid, and then pushed play. And her voice and Eliot's were played back. The conversation they'd had the other day, sitting on his couch. After a few seconds, she reached out and turned it off. He just poured another shot of alcohol and downed it.

"Since when do you spy on your own team, Nate?" She couldn't stop the anger from leaking into her voice. That was low, even for him.

"It's my fucking home, Sophie. I know you guys are here all the time but I do actually live here. And that means I have the right to record whatever I want. I'm in the habit of recording the stuff that goes on here because more than once someone's been here and there was no proof but my word or theirs. Sterling, The Italian... I once heard a person on a tv show say that you never knew when an inconvenient truth would slip through the cracks and vanish. He was right."

"Oh, great, now I'm being compared to Sterling. Thanks. You're such an asshole, Nate."

"Why'd you do it Sophie?"

She had been stalking off in disgust, but now she rounded on him. "What the hell right do you have to ask me that? You take your sweet fucking time, assuming I can just wait forever, and then you get pissed when I find a way to make it through? He's my friend Nate. Hell, at that point he was a better friend than you were. At least he listened. At least he did something to help the pain." There were tears on her cheeks now. She'd told Eliot he wouldn't understand.

"When? Before San Lorenzo? After? When?"

She thought about just walking out. Walking away, and maybe for good this time. But she'd put so much work into him. Tried so damned hard. "Do you honestly believe I'd have done it after that? Do you really believe I'd have done it after I came back when you said you needed me? Because if you do believe that, then you don't know me half as well as you should. I'm working my ass off here Nate. Trying my best to find a way through to you. And you think I'd jeopardize it by sleeping with someone else now? It was early on, after the team got together. Once I realised you wouldn't let me in, I started giving up. Somehow Eliot knew. He figured out that I was in pain and did everything he could to make it stop. And he was a perfect gentleman. I had to practically beg him to have sex with me. He thought I couldn't keep it about just sex. The last time was right after that job with Lillian Foods. The magic show one." She could see him thinking back, trying to remember if he'd seen some sign.

"Did it help?" he asked softly. There was no accusation in the words this time. He really wanted to know.

Sophie swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Yeah. For a while, yes it did. Nate, you can live your life in a bubble, and you seem to do just fine. I can't." She looked away. She hated admitting to any sort of weakness, and this was one of her worst. "I need to feel liked. Appreciated. Maybe it's because I'm an actress, and maybe it's just me. But Eliot... he made me feel good. He made me feel like he wanted me around." She got up and started to walk away.

"Don't go." She could barely hear him say the words, they were so quiet.

"Give me a reason to stay." An echo of her words three years ago, after they'd gotten a house back for a client. She stood there for a few seconds, watching him. He didn't say anything, and she was getting ready to walk away when he stood up, picking up the bottle of whiskey off the table. Nate walked over to the sink, the too careful walk of a person already drunk, and upended the bottle, watching as the amber liquid swirled down the drain. He looked up at her, wondering if she understood the meaning of the gesture. Apparently something about it got through to her, because she didn't move.

"I did this once. If that's what I have to do to get you to stay then I'll do it again."

"And what are you going to use to take its place this time, Nate? Last time it was control. At least when you're drinking you can still function. What happens if you get addicted to something that keeps that from happening? Then I lose you all the way, instead of one small piece at a time." She sat back down in her chair and put her head in her hands.

He hesitated, and then walked over and sat down beside her. He wasn't sure what to expect when he pulled her into his arms. Most days he really couldn't tell whether she'd rather kiss him or kill him. This time she just rested her head against his chest, and stayed there, silent. "Don't you want me to quit drinking, Sophie?"

She hated that question. Any way she chose to answer it she would most likely regret it later. Finally she said "I want you to quit drinking for _you_ Nate. Not for me, not for the team, not because of some 'moral' reason. I want you to stop because you actually _want_ to be better. I could ask you to stop for me, but it won't work. You have to want to heal. And I don't think you do. Not yet." She didn't move from her position leaning against him.

"I don't know how to make myself want to heal. _How_ do I make myself want to heal?" There was bitterness and grief both in his voice.

"You can't. Why do you think I have so much patience for you Nate? Most women would've given up by now. I know that you can't help it. But that doesn't stop the fact that it's hurting me."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry for hurting you, and for being angry about you and Eliot. I hate that it happened, but I hate even more that I was responsible. You know, my mother once told me that my worst problem was always going to be getting out of my own way. I never understood what she meant until now." He rested his chin on her head. His phone rang, but he made no move to pick it up.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"I'm busy." He tightened his arms around her a bit.

"It could be important."

"I don't care if it's St. Peter calling direct from the pearly gates, I'm busy."

"Busy doing what, Nate?"

"Hugging you." Okay, so that sort of felt good to hear him say.

"Oh."

"Will you tell me about it?"

She pulled back to look at him with a puzzled expression. "Tell you about what?"

"About you and Eliot." She started to look angry again, and it took him a second to replay that and figure it out. "Oh... No, no, not that part. Definitely not that part," he said with a bit of a shudder. She rolled her eyes a bit but continued to watch him. "I meant, will you tell me what you guys did as friends. Why he was such a good friend."

"My answer to that depends entirely on two things, Nate. Eliot's permission, and you telling me why you want to know. And don't lie to me, because you suck at it."

"I do not."

"Yeah, you do."

"Do not."

"What are you, twelve years old? Answer the question Nate."

He thought for a second, and then said "How else can I learn? How am I supposed to know what you want from me, as a friend or as a lover, without you telling me Soph? I'm not a mind reader. I can't see what you want unless you let me. Like... okay, the other day during our date, you remember how you shivered and I gave you my jacket?" She nodded. "You did that on purpose, didn't you? So I'd see that you wanted my jacket." She nodded again, but he'd already continued. "The weird thing is, about five seconds before you shivered Meridith was in my ear saying how I'd screwed up by giving you something cold to eat and then sitting you in the shade. She said you'd walk away. But you didn't. You deliberately gave me a cue to follow. And the strangest part was that I trusted you so much that I waited for it. I didn't stand up when she said it. I waited for you to say it, even if it wasn't with words."

"So you want me to tell you about Eliot and I so that you'll have another list to follow? Things that I like?" She shook her head. "Nate, you could just ask me whether I like something or not. Don't you think that would be easier?"

"Probably. But Eliot isn't like me. He likes different things, so it stands to reason he'd try different things with you. Things I'd never consider."

She had to admit that it made sense. Eliot had gotten her to try a lot of things she'd never have considered otherwise. Things she'd either never been introduced to, or things that she wouldn't have done on her own because she would have been too scared. And it wasn't like she wanted to stop doing things with Eliot; he was her friend. But it would be good for Nate to know more about what she liked.

"So will you ask him?" Nate looked over at her.

"When I said 'if Eliot gives his permission,' I didn't say I was going to be the one to ask him, Nate." She had a feeling he wasn't going to like this part. She was right.

"What? No way Sophie. He won't give his permission if I ask."

"You can't know that. He might, and anyway, I think we need to let him know that you figured it out. He's my friend Nate, and I don't want to lie to him. He was the one who suggested that I should tell you in the first place."

"But why can't you tell him that?" He looked genuinely confused.

"Because I think the two of you need to talk."

"Sophie, guys don't need to talk. We can go all day and not say two words to each other and still be friends." That earned him a whack on the back of the head. "Ow!" She seemed to get faster every time she hit him.

"First, that's a stereotype. Second, even 'guys'," she rolled her eyes, "need to talk sometimes. He needs to know that you don't blame him."

"For sleeping with my girl? I do sort of blame him Sophie. He knew I wanted you."

"But I wasn't your girl then Nate." He felt a little bit of pleasure at that sentence. At least she'd progressed from the whole 'you and I are definitely not dating' thing.

He sighed. "Is there any way that I can change your mind about this?" She shook her head no. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll talk to him. But if I come back with two broken arms you get to take care of me."

"Fair enough." She leaned over and kissed him gently. "I'm going home for a while. Don't you dare drive anywhere. Not with all that whiskey in you." She waited for his nod before she left. After she did he sighed, and set about planning how to talk to Eliot without getting killed.

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><p>The quote about inconvenient facts I borrowed from Londo Mollari, Babylon 5: Ceremonies of Light and Dark. Since the fic is basically about the differences between how two men treated the same woman, I borrowed a piece of the episode title. Seemed appropriate. :)<p> 


	2. Story Time

I don't own Leverage (it probably wouldn't be nearly as good if I did) :)

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><p>Nate looked around at Eliot's gym. He'd knocked on the door to Eliot's place and gotten no answer, so he'd let himself in by picking the lock (being careful to watch for security measures as he did.) He'd seen Eliot's place twice before, both after jobs where the hitter had taken serious beatings protecting the team. Nate had gone there to check on him to make sure he was alright and to offer him help if he needed it. The second time he'd actually had to put Eliot's shoulder back into joint for him, a thought which still made him wince a bit when he thought about it.<p>

He'd gone downstairs toward the basement this trip around, knowing that that was where Eliot worked out and that he might be there. However, the place was empty. Nate was impressed at the array of weights and exercise machines. There was also a punching bag hanging from a beam in the ceiling. A collection of swords and knives were displayed on one wall, and the corkboard at the other end of the room with a lot of nicks in it proved that the knives weren't just for show. Two of the other walls were floor to ceiling mirrors. There was also a stereo with speakers in all four corners of the room.

Nate walked around, looking at the various items in the room, and then walked toward the punching bag. He hit it lightly, and then squared up and hit it harder. The thing barely moved. And his knuckles hurt.

"You gotta hit it closer to the middle." Nate spun at the sound of Eliot's voice. Why did none of these people make noise when they walked?

"Hi Eliot," he said. "I uh... I needed to talk to you. I let myself in. I hope that's okay."

Eliot leaned up against the doorframe. Nate's voice sounded a bit anxious, and his posture said the same thing. "Yeah, it's fine. As long as you don't steal anything like Parker tends to."

"Parker's been here?" Nate's voice was a bit surprised.

Eliot nodded. "Yeah, she said I should feel honoured that she wanted to steal from me." He snorted. "Plus she comes here a lot when she's hungry. She doesn't know how to cook and she said she was getting sick of Sophie lecturing her about not eating more than cereal." Weird. Nate's body language got a bit more nervous when he mentioned Sophie. Suddenly he had a thought about where this was going. "So what did you wanna talk about Nate?"

Nate sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "Um, well... I sort of talked to Sophie the other day and... well, I know about the two of you." He paused. "That you slept with her, I mean."

Eliot stared at him. "And?"

Nate shook his head. "And nothing. I just, you know, wanted you to know. Soph didn't want to have to lie to you. Also... I um," he paused, thinking. How the hell could he word this? "I kind of asked her about what you guys did together. You know, as friends. I wanted to get a better idea of what she likes. She said I had to ask your permission before she'd tell me. So here I am." Nate took a deep breath, feeling like he'd just run a marathon.

"She doesn't need my permission Nate. She can tell you whatever she wants to. It's a free country." Eliot walked over and squared up, throwing a punch at the bag. It moved a hell of a lot more than it had for Nate. Nate tilted his head to the side, watching Eliot's stance. He shifted his hips slightly when he punched, and that seemed to give him more power. Eliot, noticing his gaze, walked over and stood beside him. "Like this," he said. "Keep your feet on the same line. If I drew a line on the floor, the ball of your front foot and back foot should both touch it." He edged Nate's legs closer together. "And keep your shoulders down. Most people shrug up their shoulders like they see boxers do in the movies. But it actually takes away from the power and speed in your punch because then you have to bring your punch back down to hit the target." Nate nodded, and hit the bag again. It definitely moved more this time, but still hurt his knuckles. He shook his hand.

"Why doesn't it hurt when you hit it?" he asked, puzzled.

"Well it does, a bit. But it doesn't hurt me as much because I have a lot of scar tissue on my knuckles from using them all the time." Eliot held his hands out, palms down, for Nate to see. "You could wear gloves. If you were gonna be fighting all the time, I'd say you shouldn't wear gloves so that your hands would toughen up, but it isn't really a necessity for you. Punching though... everyone should know how to do that."

"Yeah, Hardison's still a bit pissed that you showed Sophie how to hit so hard. He keeps griping about the time she knocked him out." Eliot smiled at that. He found it funny that Hardison thought a girl couldn't hit just as hard as a guy. After all, it did depend much more on training than brute strength. Hardison had underestimated Sophie and paid the price. And a rather mild one at that.

"I should go." Nate started walking toward the door.

"If you keep hurting her I'm gonna have to kick your ass. So treat her right, damnit." The words were out of his mouth before Eliot could stop them.

"I'll try." Nate paused, and then said "Oh, by the way, thanks for sending the flowers. I'm pretty sure she might have figured out they weren't from me but... they made her smile. So thanks."

Eliot nodded and walked him out.

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><p>Nate dropped onto the couch beside Sophie. They'd finished another job today, one that had taken two weeks to pull off. For eleven of those fourteen days Sophie had been stuck dealing with their mark, a truly awful specimen of a human being. Aside from the fact that he was stealing money from a charity meant to help impoverished children in the area get into sports programs they otherwise would have no chance at, the man had spent a lot of time trying to get Sophie to sleep with him. She couldn't blow her cover by shutting him down completely, so she'd had to string him along. The whole time Nate had had to restrain himself from just walking in and strangling the guy for his treatment of Sophie. He may not say it, but she was his, damnit. He didn't like watching some other guy being all over her. It also bugged him that the guy acted like he was God's gift to women, like they should just fall into bed with him because he was so great.<p>

Sophie had performed with her usual level of excellence, making sure the mark never saw the con coming until it was already on him. But she'd been quiet ever since it ended. Usually she'd be with the rest of the team downstairs in the bar, celebrating. Instead, she'd quietly congratulated them and come back up here. Nate had noticed (he never missed anything, especially where Sophie was concerned) and decided that he'd rather be up here with her than in a bar full of alcohol that he was (albeit slowly) trying to wean himself away from.

Once Nate was settled Sophie cuddled into his side, pulling his arm down so that it was around her shoulders. For a few minutes she let the warmth of his body soak into her. It felt good to sit like this, not talking, just enjoying each other's company.

After about ten minutes Nate broke the silence to ask "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shrugged but didn't move. "I'm not sure what the problem is myself Nate."

"Can I tell you something about me then?" She looked up at him, trying not to show the hope that flared in her when he said those words. If he saw it he might change his mind and run.

She nodded. "You can tell me anything."

"I didn't like what he was doing. It made me jealous. But worse," and here he paused, thinking it over and trying to figure out how to word it, "I didn't like how he treated you, like you weren't worth anything. You are. You're worth so much. It wasn't right, how he acted."

Sophie's eyes met his, deep brown meeting bright blue. "Thanks, Nate. Thanks for saying that. It's nice to have some reassurance once in a while." She dropped her eyes and snuggled closer.

"I talked to Eliot." The change in topic caught her off guard a bit, but she didn't let it faze her. Their conversations often went this way, topics changing and shifting with each moment. It had a lot to do with how intelligent they both were. Each of them could almost pick up on the other's thoughts. "And?" She didn't move.

"He says that you can tell me what you want, that it's a free country. Oh, and then he threatened to kick my ass."

She smiled. Neither one of those statements surprised her. She was willing to bet that Eliot's statement about kicking Nate's ass had come after the words 'if you hurt her'. He was quite protective of her at times. On several occasions she'd actually had to talk him away from kicking the crap out of Nate because he'd hurt her feelings. Eliot had told her that where he came from, treating a woman like that was out of the question and that anyone who did so needed a sharp lesson in ethics.

"Well then I guess it's story time, huh?" She pulled away and sat up, crossing her legs and facing him. He matched her posture, and she began.


	3. Tea and Strawberries

I don't own Leverage *sigh*

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><p>"So how do you want me to do this? I mean I guess I could go in chronological order... But then some stuff takes longer than other stuff to tell. Hmmm." Sophie appeared lost in thought. Nate grinned a bit at the look on her face. He'd seen it before, usually when she was debating which pair of (insanely expensive) shoes she wanted.<p>

"Soph," he interrupted her musings gently. "Tell me whatever you want in whatever order you want. It isn't like I won't remember."

"Oh, like you remembered the difference between Paris and Tuscany?" she teased. He was never living that one down. She was going to torture him with it until the day he died. Which if she had her way would be a long time coming.

"One mistake," he shook his head. "One mistake and I never hear the end of it. God."

"Well it's just so much fun torturing you with it. The great Nathan Ford, can't even remember which city he's in." She smiled a bit to take the sting from the words.

"Alright," she said. "I think I know where to start. Did you ever see Eliot's basement in LA?"

"Assuming 'Eliot's basement' isn't some weird kinky metaphor, yeah, I did." She thumped him on the shoulder for that comment.

"Okay, well, that's the scene for the first story."

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><p>Right after The Homecoming Job:<p>

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><p>Sophie knocked on Eliot's door. After the job was over, the team had gone out for dinner before going their separate ways. As Eliot was walking away she'd noticed he had a slight limp. Having seen this, and also having witnessed the fight at the hospital, she had a good idea that it was Eliot's knee that had been bugging him. She couldn't help worrying, and besides, his place was on the way to hers. It was a bit funny, she mused, that he'd been so protective of his cash from the Bering aerospace job. It wasn't like either she or Parker couldn't have gotten a hold of it if they'd wanted; they were the best for a reason.<p>

She'd found this place through process of elimination. Checking each of Eliot's aliases and the corresponding addresses, she'd methodically gone through them and surveyed each one on a different day. On the fifth day of this, she'd succeeded in finding out that Eliot was at this address. She'd been more cautious in her surveillance the next day; she knew Eliot had Special Forces training (and in her mind she laughed a bit, because it was a _very distinctive_ personality). Eliot's favourite phrase was quite apt in this situation. So she took more precautions, staying out of sight entirely instead of just blending in like she had the first day she'd been here.

Still, she thought it might be possible that Eliot had spotted her; and even if he hadn't he might feel the surveillance on him, a trait that a lot of proven military operators developed. She knew; she had a friend, another grifter, who had seen some time in the service. It was uncanny, but she could never sneak up on the woman no matter how hard she'd tried. And she had tried _hard_.

So after spending quite a bit of time figuring out where Eliot lived, she'd found it here. It wasn't quite what she'd expected. Eliot's place was a tightly contained brick house. She could see that it included a basement; two small rectangular windows, complete with bars, were evident at the front of the house. Other than that it was pretty nondescript, but the yard at the back made up for it. It was covered in rows and rows of vegetables, and all around the perimeter were different types of fruit trees. She recognized the oranges and apples, but also noted mangoes and walnuts. Eliot clearly spent a lot of time in the garden because it was well tended.

Sophie's musings were cut short as Eliot opened the door. "Hey," he greeted. "Problem?"

"Problem?" she repeated. "No, no... I just wanted to check on you."

"Why? I'm fine."

"You were limping a bit when you walked away after dinner."

"Oh." Eliot thought for a minute. He wasn't sure how much to tell this woman. When he'd first seen her he'd thought she was just another bad actress and that Nate was crazy. But then they'd done the first job and he'd watched how she could just seamlessly blend into whatever character was needed for the con. During the time off after the first job, he'd had a few of his contacts in Europe send him intel about her. She was smart, rich, and considered very dangerous by anyone who knew her. So far he hadn't found out about anyone she'd killed, but she'd been involved with some very unsavoury individuals and organisations. She'd also left some people who'd pissed her off to fend for themselves in some bad situations. Situations that she'd created.

He realised he'd left her standing on the doorstep too long and felt like an idiot. Part of his southern upbringing was to treat women right whether he trusted them or not. "Come on in," he said, and held the door for her. He took her coat and hung it on the rack and then led her into the dining room. Somewhere in the house music was playing softly. "I just made some tea. You want some?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm British."

He took that as a yes. He went out to the kitchen and returned with a tray with mugs, teapot, sugar and milk. She noted as he did that she'd been right; he was limping a little bit.

"Did you hurt it today?" She indicated his left leg.

"Naw. It's an old injury. Sniper." He pulled his jeans up far enough that she could see a scar on the inside of his kneecap. "Half an inch further and the docs said I'd have lost the leg."

"Oh. So you probably aggravated it in the fight today and that's where the limp comes from." He looked a bit surprised at her knowledge. She saw it and smiled. "I've seen my fair share of injuries. Also, I dated an orthopaedic surgeon." She sipped her tea.

"I'll wrap it tonight and it'll be fine by tomorrow. You don't have to worry that I won't be able to do my job. Besides, I've fought on one leg before."

"That wasn't what I was worried about. I just wanted to make sure that if it was a new injury, you'd get it looked after. I know a lot of guys would just ignore it and think 'it'll go away'. Then when it doesn't, it takes a lot of rehab and physiotherapy to get it right again."

"I know better. I can't do my job, protect y'all, unless I'm in peak condition. So you don't have to worry." He leaned back in his chair. "So it was you that I saw that day. I thought so."

"If you saw me, why didn't you say something?"

He shrugged. "Wanted to see what you'd do. I thought maybe you were planning on breaking in here. Which, by the way, would be a bad idea. I have some security measures that might surprise you."

"I tend not to steal from my friends. Or at the very least, from members of my team. It's bad for trust."

"That's true enough. So why were you spying on me then?"

"Just wanted to see where you called home. You don't give off many clues about yourself, so I figured I'd see if I couldn't find out some more about you." She finished her tea. "I like your place. Well, what I've seen of it anyway."

He had a furious internal debate with himself for a few seconds, and then decided what the hell. If she wanted to steal from him she'd probably manage it regardless. "You want a tour?"

She smiled. "Absolutely."

* * *

><p>He showed her the basement, which he'd turned into a gym. She was impressed at all the machines and weapons. He hit the punching bag on the way by; it was kind of a good luck charm for him to always give it at least a glancing blow while he was down here. She winced at the noise his fist made when it connected, and he looked over. "Try it," he suggested, indicating the bag.<p>

"Thanks, no. I like my hands intact."

"I could put some gloves on you. Come on," he teased, "you know you want to hit it."

"No, I really don't. My job is not to have to hit things. If I have to hit someone then I've messed up somewhere."

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared," he said.

"I'm fine. Besides, I'd just find something to hit them with if it came to that."

"What if there's nothing around?" That had definitely happened to him.

"Then I run away."

"What if you can't? Especially in those," he said, indicating the heels she was wearing.

"I'd ditch them and run barefoot."

"You have a lot of answers, huh?" He looked at her.

She smiled. "It's part of my job, coming up with things on the fly."

"I think you're just afraid to hit the bag." He shrugged. "Tour's this way."

* * *

><p>They went out the back door and he led her through the garden. Looking at it from here it was actually bigger than she'd thought. Part of it was devoted entirely to herbs. The smells were amazing. He checked a few plants as they walked, untangling leaves from each other or gently straightening vines so that the fruit on them caught as much sunlight as possible. It kind of amazed her how gentle his hands could be considering what he did for a living.<p>

"Want a strawberry?" he asked, crouching down and picking one off a vine.

"Without washing it first? No, thanks."

"Washing them takes the sunlight flavour away." He bit into the berry.

"Sunlight flavour?" She looked at him sceptically.

"Yeah. Berries always taste better right off the vine. A little dirt won't kill you." He offered her another one. "Come on. Humour me."

She sighed. She'd eaten worse things in her life. She closed her eyes when she bit into the berry, but they popped open again in a hurry when the sweetness of it met her tongue. Eliot laughed at the look on her face. Apparently no one had ever taken this woman berry picking as a kid. His mom used to say he ate twice as many berries as he picked. There were some days that he thought that had been an understatement.

"Okay, why did that taste so good?" She looked at him.

"I told you, sunlight."

"No, there's no way it was that good just because it hadn't been washed. That was not a normal strawberry Eliot."

"Yeah it was. I have a green thumb though. I'm good with plants. I like them more than people usually. Plants don't talk back." He stood up and dusted off his hands. He finished showing her the garden, then showed her the kitchen last. This was his haven. Industrial quality appliances, knives sharp as razors, and everything spotless. He sometimes spent hours cooking just because he liked being in here. Sophie looked suitably impressed.

"I'm going to have to make you cook for me sometime," she said, leaning against a counter.

"Dinner's at six every night. I always make more than I need because it gives me something to eat as a snack or for lunch the next day. Just text me and let me know. Otherwise I might not be here alone."

She tilted her head. Obviously he didn't mind her being here if he was inviting her back. "I might take you up on that one sometime." She stood up straighter. "I should go. Don't forget to wrap that knee," she reminded him.

"I won't forget." He walked her to the door, watching her to make sure she got in her car before he closed it again. He took a second to let his eyes appreciate the view as she was walking away since she couldn't see him looking, then he closed and locked the door and returned to the book he'd been reading before she got there.

* * *

><p>"That's it for tonight." Sophie looked at Nate. She wondered if he'd protest. She could see that he was thinking about it, but apparently he'd meant the comment about her telling him only as much as she wanted to, because he just nodded.<p>

"Dinner?" He looked at her.

"Which kind," she smirked. It had become a running joke between them, using the word as a code for sex.

"Both? Either? Whichever you want really," he responded.

"I think the first. But I'm hungry so let's get food first. Give me a minute to change."

"What's wrong with what you have on?" Nate looked genuinely puzzled. "You look great."

She tilted her head. "Huh." A compliment from Nate that she hadn't needed to solicit. "Maybe you're right. Come on," she said, and they left.


	4. Fear and Beauty

I don't own Leverage... or much else really. huh. ;)

* * *

><p>Sophie shifted a bit and then reached over to Nate's side of the bed. Her hand met sheets that had already gone cold from the lack of his presence. He could move pretty quietly when he wanted; she hadn't felt him leave. Sighing, she got up.<p>

After using the washroom, Sophie went down the stairs, checking the clock on the way there. 3:30 am. Christ.

Nate was sitting at the island in the kitchen, his laptop open in front of him. Other than that, he hadn't turned on any lights. There was a bottle of scotch sitting beside him, and an empty glass. Strangely enough, the bottle hadn't been opened; it was still sealed.

Sophie walked up behind Nate and wrapped her arms around him. "You planning on drinking it?" she asked, indicating the bottle.

He shrugged, being careful not to hurt her. "I really don't know. I keep sitting here, telling myself I shouldn't. But then the pain keeps coming through. I thought I'd try distracting myself with planning our next job, but it isn't doing any good. All I can feel is this part of my mind screaming at me to just open that bottle." He closed his eyes. "I can almost taste the damn stuff. How bad is that?"

She squeezed him again and then let go, sitting down beside him. "Nate, if you can't quit all at once than you can't. The fact that you're even trying to is a good sign. I can well remember a time when you were sure it wasn't a problem."

"Yeah, at that damned rehab centre. That day when they kept me there when I tried to leave," he shook his head, "I was ready to kill them. Really kill them Soph."

"I could tell. The way you looked at me when I came in... that was the first time I was ever afraid to be alone with you. I believed you wouldn't hurt me, but beliefs don't do much to stop someone's fists if they decide to hit you." She looked away at the probing nature of the look he was giving her.

"Soph, look at me." When she didn't, he said "Please." She finally met his eyes. "I would never, ever, in a million years, hit you. I would never hit any woman unless they were a danger to me first."

"I am a danger to you Nate. You know it, and so do I."

"I don't care. You can do anything to me, anything, and I would still never hurt you like that. Any guy that would deserves to have his friggin' hands cut off."

"He did." When Nate looked confused, she looked down. "My..." she hesitated "brother, of sorts. He found out about what the guy was doing. The guy was found dead two days later. In pieces." She swallowed. "They never really figured out who did it, but I knew what happened. And I was relieved. How sick is that? Hell, next to that, I guess alcoholism isn't so bad."

"I hope he suffered for a long time before he died." Nate's eyes were hard as diamonds. "He deserved it Sophie." He stared at the bottle in front of him for a second, then got up and put it back in the cupboard. "Come on," he said, pulling on her hand and leading her over to the couch. "Tell me another story. I think we could both use the distraction."

She nodded. "Good idea." She thought for a second and then said "Okay, the setting for the next scene is Kentucky. Remember when we conned Foss to help Eliot's friend Willie?" Nate nodded. "Well, Eliot must have realised that I missed riding, because he invited me with him. I'm not sure how he knew I could ride in the first place. Maybe it was just that I wasn't nervous at all around those animals, even though they could have squashed me like a bug if they'd wanted."

* * *

><p>After The Two Horse Job:<p>

* * *

><p>"Hey, thanks." Eliot walked up and stood beside Sophie, looking out at the paddock. Baltimore stood there, contentedly chewing tufts of grass. He still had some marks left from the fire at Willie's stable, but he looked a hell of a lot better than when Eliot had first seen him.<p>

"For what?" Sophie looked over.

"For backing me with Nate today. I don't think he would've listened if it had just been me." Eliot whistled, and Baltimore came over to them. Eliot scratched his nose.

"You're welcome. You were right though. If we'd stalled Foss would've figured out our plan." She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out one of the sugar cubes she'd taken from the kitchen earlier. Baltimore took it, crunching it and then pushing his nose at her, wanting more. She laughed. "No way, one's enough. Too much of anything is bad for you." She patted him and then turned away. Eliot followed her as she headed back to the stables.

"You wanna go for a ride?" He opened the door for her.

"Are you asking me on a date, Eliot?" She lifted an eyebrow at him.

"What? No, no. I just thought... well, it's been a long time since I was back here and, well, this place is best seen from horseback. But if you don't want to..." he shrugged.

"I'm kidding, Eliot. I'd love to go for a ride." They grabbed tack and saddles and saddled up. Eliot was a bit impressed at her knowledge. Of course, where he'd grown up most girls knew all about horses, but Sophie really hadn't seemed like an outdoors type. He was going to offer to boost her onto her horse but she was up and seated faster than he could speak. He smiled a bit. The woman was like an onion. Every time he thought he'd figured her out, he learned something new.

"This way," he said.

They rode in silence for a bit, enjoying the sights and the sounds. He took her down the paths he used to ride all the time. Try though he might to suppress them, some of his memories kept intruding on him. This place was full of them.

"I think... yep, it's still clear. Guess I wasn't the only one who knew about it after all," he said, turning his horse down a path that was almost hidden from sight. "Watch your head on the branches," he said.

"Where are we going?" Sophie ducked to miss a low hanging tree limb.

"The most beautiful place in Kentucky." He stopped about five minutes later and jumped down from his horse. "We hafta go on foot from here. Don't want to risk the horses." They tied off the reins to a nearby tree. Eliot led Sophie further along the path. "Be careful. There are some loose rocks up here. Or at least, there used to be."

"Not going to get me lost are you?" She smiled.

"Sophie, I didn't get lost in the jungles of Africa. I don't think Kentucky is a huge risk. Here we go," he said. He turned and dropped down about four feet off a ledge Sophie hadn't even seen.

"Here," he said, reaching up. Sophie sat down on the edge of the drop and then pushed off, counting on him to make sure she didn't fall. He caught her and set her down on her feet. Strangely enough, though he could've kept his hands on her for an extra moment, under the pretence of 'steadying her' he didn't.

"Look," he said, pulling aside a tree limb for her and gesturing for her to go ahead of him. She did, and then stopped dead a few seconds later, a gasp falling from her lips before she could stop it. It was... okay, yes he was right, this was definitely the most beautiful thing she'd seen in their entire time here. Spread out before them was a grotto, willow trees surrounding it and dipping some of their fronds into the water. The pool in front of them was as still as glass. She could see an almost perfect reflection of the sky in the water. He didn't say anything, letting her take in the sights. But he did lead her over and seat her on one of the nearby boulders.

After about five minutes, she turned to him and said "This place is amazing. How'd you know about it?"

He smiled. "I used to come here to think. No one else really knew about it. I could just sit without anyone bugging me. When I was in a bad mood it always helped."

She nodded. "I could see how it could do that."

"I used to swim in the pond too. Actually, that's where I learned to swim. I taught myself. Nearly drowned the first time too." He grinned. "It's deceiving because it's so clear, but the water is about twelve feet deep at the centre."

"You went swimming all by yourself and nearly drowned, so you decided to do it again?" She shook her head. "I will never understand men."

"Well the nearly drowning part I didn't plan. And I was swimming alone because I didn't want to let anyone else know about this place. Plus, I was kinda naked at the time, so..."

Sophie started giggling. "And if they'd found you drowned and naked?"

"Well, it wouldn't have mattered to me, I'd have been dead," he replied, smiling too.

"I suppose," she said, still laughing a bit.

After about half an hour, Sophie looked at her watch. "We need to get back. Got a plane to catch."

"Back to LA. Smoggy and overpopulated." Eliot sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why I ever left this place."

"You can still come back. From what I've seen, I have a feeling Amy wouldn't mind that at all."

Eliot shook his head. "I won't. I have too many enemies Sophie. They'd find me and take out their revenge on her." Besides, he thought to himself, that promise to Uncle Sam still stands. Like it or not.

He boosted her up onto the ledge and then followed. By five that evening they were on their way back to California.


	5. Steak Dinners and Omelettes

I don't own Leverage (except the dvds). I do own a copy of the book Shibumi, which I use in this chapter. Very good book.

* * *

><p>Nate walked up behind Sophie and hugged her hard before dropping a kiss on her head, taking a second to enjoy the smell of her shampoo.<p>

"Mmm. What was that for?" she asked, smiling.

He shrugged. "For being distracting. I used to kind of hate that, that you could make me lose focus so easily. But it came in handy this morning. Thanks." He knew if she hadn't come down when she did he would have opened that bottle.

"Any time, Nate."

"When do I get another story?" Surprisingly, there was quite a bit of desire in his voice. Apparently he'd meant it when he told her he enjoyed her presence for more than just the sex.

"Cook me breakfast and I'll tell you one after." She wondered if he noticed that she was slowly training him to do as she asked. It wasn't as if she expected him to always do as she said; that kind of relationship was doomed to fail. But she wanted him to learn to give up some of the control once in a while.

He didn't bother to answer her, just went over and started pulling out ingredients from the fridge. From the look of it, he was planning on making omelettes.

When they'd finished eating, they moved back to the couch again. It had become sort of their unofficial "story" spot. "Remember when you came in that day and I was talking to Theresa? How we argued in front of the team about whether to take the job and I implied that you had no idea how hard it was to wait for someone?" Nate nodded. "I meant it. I'd already been waiting forever, and there you were, still on the fence and acting like you couldn't care less about anything but your next drink. It was driving me crazy."

"This story is about what happened between when between that evening and the next morning, isn't it?"

Sophie looked at him. "What makes you say that?" she asked.

"When you left that evening you were pissed, with a capital 'P'," he said. "But you were in a pretty good mood the next day. I figured something must have happened to turn your mood around."

"You pay a lot more attention to me than you let on, huh?" He dropped his eyes and coloured a bit.

"Can't help it," he mumbled.

She reached out and placed a hand under his chin, pressing faintly to tell him to raise his eyes. "I like the attention, Nate. It's flattering." She paused, and then said "Okay."

* * *

><p>During The Wedding Job:<p>

* * *

><p>Sophie slammed the door of the car. In her head, she called Nathan Ford a bunch of names she'd likely never have voiced aloud. Just before she went to put the car in gear, she heard her cell phone beep once, meaning she had a new text. She pulled it out, noting the time in the corner to be half past six.<p>

_I'm grilling steaks tonight. You interested?_ Eliot? She was a bit surprised at the invite. Even though he'd said once that she was welcome at his place for supper, she'd expected to have to be the one to ask.

_I might not be the best company_, She sent back. A few seconds later, her phone beeped again.

_You don't have to be. I could tell he pissed you off. Come on over. You need a night off, and my food might help perk you up_. She smiled despite herself. The guy was persistent. Apparently he felt that protecting her included her state of mind.

_I'll see you there_, She sent to him.

_Let yourself in. I need to stop at the market._

* * *

><p>Sophie looked around at Eliot's place. She liked the pictures on the walls. They weren't really anything special in terms of being expensive, but most of them showed horses running free. There was also a guitar sitting on a stand in the corner of the living room. She frowned, trying to remember if it had been there last time she was here. She hadn't known Eliot could play.<p>

She had a seat on the couch to wait for him, picking up the book on the side table. The title said 'Shibumi' and the author was listed simply as 'Trevanian'. She flipped it over and read the summary, raising an eyebrow at the description stating the main character as both the 'perfect assassin' and the 'perfect lover.' Looking up at the clock, she shrugged. She might just as well be doing something until Eliot got here.

She was on page 45 when he got there. She'd always been a fast reader. And this book was very good. Eliot looked over and saw her reading it when he came in, two grocery bags in his hands. "Like it?" he asked, as he passed her to go into the kitchen. She followed, setting the book back down on the table.

"Yeah, what I've read so far." She leaned up against his counter, an almost mirror image of the last time she'd been here. "What do you need help with?"

He shook his head. "I don't need help. I'm good."

"Come on Eliot. I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing while you work."

He shrugged. "I don't expect you to do nothing. You can sit there and talk to me." He indicated a bar stool beside the island. He went to the closet and returned with a bottle of red wine, pouring her a glass. "Here. So where did you meet Theresa?"

"New York, actually." She described their meeting, watching the economy of his movements as he prepared the steaks. She followed him out to the back deck as he placed them on the grill. Leaving just the screen door shut, he returned to the kitchen and began putting together a salad. She was a little surprised when she finished the wine in twenty minutes. He'd been distracting her, but still. She could usually make a glass last a lot longer than that. He poured more for her. She looked at him. "I'm not going to be able to drive home if I keep drinking this stuff you know." His eyebrows lifted a bit at her comment and she mentally replayed it. Oh. Oops. "I mean, I'll have to leave my car here and call a taxi," she clarified, flushing slightly.

Eliot grinned. It was kinda fun seeing Sophie flustered. She was always acting so sophisticated. "Drink it, Sophie. I'll make sure you get home safe." He went back to cutting up mushrooms to go with their steaks.

* * *

><p>"Okay, that was the best meal I've had in weeks. Possibly months." She looked over at him. They were sitting at the dining room table. He'd turned on the radio. It was low, but she could tell by the sound it was a country station. He'd occasionally tap one of his feet to the music, and she wondered if he knew it. She finished her <em>third<em> glass of wine. He'd only had one himself.

"I like to cook." He leaned back in his chair. He'd already cleared away the dishes and stored the leftovers in the fridge. "I could never see the point of keeping my body in peak condition if all I was going to do was fill it with junk. It didn't make sense."

"You make a good point. We eat way too much fast food. Our team, I mean." When she said the words "team" he could see her mind going back over the events of the day. He could see that Nate's refusal to do this job simply because she asked had hurt her. Sometimes he thought Nate must either be blind or a complete idiot. Here was this beautiful, intelligent, graceful woman, willing to turn frickin' back flips to get him into a relationship, and Nate pretty much ignored her. At first, it hadn't really bothered Eliot. But it hadn't taken long for him to start seeing Sophie as a friend. He'd even considered hitting on her once or twice. But she was very clearly in love with Nate, even if she couldn't see it. And while he didn't always approve of Nate's attitude and choices, he couldn't help seeing him as a friend too. A friend who could use a few ass-kickings to smarten him up, but still. Eliot wouldn't poach from what was Nate's. That wasn't the kind of guy he was.

He saw her eyes perk up as she caught on to one of the tunes on the radio. He grabbed the remote and turned it up a bit. Please Come to Boston. She was singing softly, and he was startled to realise that when she wasn't acting, she actually had a rather pleasant voice. He made a split second decision. He stood and walked over to her, bowing slightly and offering her his hand. "May I have this dance?"

The smile that he got in response was like being hit over the head with a brick. A good brick. She took the offered hand and stood up. He pulled her away from the table, and they danced, not talking.

When the song ended, he turned the radio back down. She sat back down in her chair, but the smile didn't leave her face. Eliot decided that yes, Nate was most definitely a bit of a moron. Who the hell would not want to date this woman? Eliot shook his head.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she said.

"Nate's an idiot," he said, and then cringed. Shit. That wasn't what he'd meant to say.

She laughed slightly. "Yeah, he often is. Why this time?"

He tried to figure out a way out of this, but then decided screw it. "For pissing you off. For hurting you. I feel like I should go kick his ass just to see if it knocks some sense into him."

"I'd prefer if you didn't, actually. For one thing, I can defend myself. For another, I've seen Nate get beaten up before. It didn't have any effect. Actually it did: he turned into more of an..." She trailed off.

"Asshole?" Eliot supplied. "You know you're allowed to swear when something pisses you off right?"

"I try not to, because what you start out doing once in a while can turn into a habit quite fast. If I get used to swearing when I'm just Sophie, I may screw up and do it during a con, when it doesn't fit with a character."

He shook his head. "You know you could give yourself an ulcer holding in all that anger though, right? You need an outlet somewhere."

She smiled. "This is a good one. Talking to you. Just... enjoying being myself. No acts, no need to show off."

"Oh. Good, then. I still think you need an outlet though. Like hitting my punching bag." He grinned.

"Nope. I already told you, I want my hands intact."

"Okay, so you said you'd hit a person with something if necessary right?"

"Yep. Or run away."

"How about you hit the dummy in the gym with a Bokto a few times."

"What the hell is a Bokto?"

"It's a wooden sword. You know, like a training sword." He went over to the wall and pulled one down. She took it gingerly. "Come on, Sophie. It won't break."

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She offered it back to him.

He took it. Eventually she'd realise that she needed to do more than talk to get her anger out. But he wasn't about to push her. She stood up with a look at her watch. "I guess I should go home. Nate wants us all back at his place at 8 am tomorrow." She pulled her car keys out of her pocket and looked at them with a sigh. Then she dug in her purse for her cell phone to call a taxi.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I'll drive you home in your car. Call a cab and ask them to be at your place in half an hour." She thought about arguing, since that meant he had to make an unnecessary trip across town. But it would mean she didn't have to come and fetch her car in the morning.

Just before they left, he picked up the book off the end table and offered it to her. "Here. I've read it already several times. Let me know what you think." She smiled and took the book. She'd actually thought about stealing it (with the intention of returning it later), but first, she'd promised not to steal from him, and second, he'd have noticed. She tended not to steal from people who could still find her after the theft was completed.

* * *

><p>When she woke up the next morning, she thought she might have a headache. After all, she didn't usually drink three glasses of wine a night. But actually, she felt pretty good. She found herself singing in the shower, and smiling when she got in her car and turned on the radio to find it still tuned to the country station Eliot had insisted on when he drove her home. She hesitated for a second, and then left it there.<p>

* * *

><p>When Sophie stopped talking, Nate looked at her. "So," he said, half joking, "Should I be reading this book then? You know, since that character was supposedly the 'Perfect Lover'."<p>

Sophie gave him an appraising look, and then got up off the couch without a word. She went up the stairs to (he assumed) his bedroom, and returned with the book in hand. She opened it to page 160 and pointed at an author's note at the bottom. He read it, his eyes widening slightly. Basically it said that twice before the author had described in such detail how to do things that people had actually done them. Once, a climber had died. The other time, several paintings were stolen from a prominent Italian museum. It also made note of the fact that several of the sexual techniques used by the main character would be left deliberately vague, to keep people from hurting themselves or each other.

Sophie was watching him when he looked up. "Is this actually true?" He raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "He did detail how to rob a museum in 'The Loo Sanction.' As to whether thieves actually used those techniques..." She trailed off.

"Huh." Nate looked at the book. "Can I read it?" She nodded.

"I'm going back to my place for a bit Nate. I'll probably be back this evening though." She picked up her purse and keys off the table.

"Hey." His voice stopped her just before she reached the door. "I'll cook dinner for another story tonight." He smiled at her.

She returned the smile. "Deal."


	6. Interludes and Examinations

Bit of a break from Eliot/Sophie stories with some Nate/Sophie and Parker/Team. Title borrowed from an episode of Babylon 5: Interludes and Examinations. Also, I borrowed from Robert Heinlein's book Friday. I don't own Leverage.

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><p>Sophie smiled as she walked into Nate's apartment. Something sure smelled good. Her smile turned to a grin when she heard him singing along with the radio. She debated whether to let him know she was there, since it was kind of nice watching him when he didn't know it. Then he turned around and noticed her, so it was a moot point.<p>

"You should sing more often," she said, hanging up her coat and walking over to the kitchen. He _blushed_. "Really Nate? All the things we've done in bed, and that makes you blush?"

He shrugged, discomfited. "Have a seat," he said, indicating the table. She was a bit surprised to see the candles he'd put on it. Usually she'd of had to be the one to set the mood that way. She sat down. There was already a glass of wine in front of Sophie's spot, but not Nate's. He dished out two plates from the oven and set one in front of her, taking a spot across from her. Then he stood back up. Halfway to the liquor cabinet he caught himself and swore. He detoured to the fridge instead, and took out a bottle of water.

Sophie watched him. He hadn't even noticed he was doing it. Maybe that was half the problem; the alcohol in this place was so readily available that he drank it before he even had a chance to think about what he was doing. She put that thought away somewhere in the back of her head and concentrated on her meal. It was good. He wasn't as skilled a chef as Eliot, but he was still miles better than her in a kitchen. When they'd lived together for a while, Tara used to tell her she could find a way to burn water. She'd argued every time until the day she welded a pan to the element on the stove. She'd put it on, intending to make something (and to this day she still couldn't remember what) and forgotten. Of course Tara had been the one to find it. Her ears had rung for days after that lecture.

Nate noticed her smiling. He considered asking why, but instead he just took the opportunity to watch her. She'd given him hell once already for checking out her ass, but he wasn't sure if she'd really been angry or if she'd just been mad because he'd done it while Eliot and Hardison were there. She caught him watching her and said "What?"

He shrugged and said "You should smile more often." It was her turn to blush. Honestly, the two of them were acting like they were teenagers on their first date. She took one last bite of her meal and pushed the plate away slightly.

"I don't know why I'm not fat, the way you guys feed me." She said it a bit accusingly. Nate had his 'thinking' look. "What now?"

He was silent for a few more seconds, and then whatever it was must have clicked into place, because suddenly he smiled. "I was trying to remember which Heinlein book it was. It was called Friday. The main character was trying to figure out why these people she was staying with were all so skinny, since they ate really well. Someone had told her once that all the exercise anyone needed could be had in bed." He grinned. "So see, now you know why you're in such good shape."

"Mmm. We do have sex a _lot_. Not that I'm complaining."

"Probably has to do with ten plus years of waiting for it. I know if I had my choice we'd find a way to keep the team out of here and just never get dressed." He finished with his dinner and took a long drink of water.

"Good luck finding a way to keep Parker out of anywhere. Ever. Aside from the fact that she can open any lock made by man, she also has this incredibly horrible timing." Her eyes went a bit strange at that comment, and he tilted his head.

"Well I know all about that. She's walked in on me in a few," he hesitated, "awkward situations. And they wonder why I get frustrated when they don't knock."

She was watching him intently. "I take it the 'awkward' situation wasn't just you naked, Nate."

He shook his head. "Nope."

"I'm almost hesitant to ask, but were you alone?"

He looked at her, a bit incredulous. "Did you seriously just ask me whether I was jacking off or having sex with someone else? If I asked you that you'd probably slap the shit out of me."

"Maybe. But I actually have a reason for asking that question Nate. Besides curiosity, I mean."

He sighed. "No Sophie, I wasn't having sex with someone else. Yes, I was jacking off. Happy?"

"When was this?"

"Jeez, what is this, the Spanish Inquisition? It was when you were gone to Europe."

She nodded. "It explains a somewhat embarrassing conversation I ended up having with her on the phone. Why didn't you talk to her about it Nate? She was quite upset about it. First, because she invaded your privacy, and second, because she has some... painful memories due to men in that particular situation."

He looked both angry and stricken. She hoped the anger wasn't with her. Apparently not, because he said "What was his name?"

"She wouldn't tell me. It was one of her foster fathers. But she wouldn't say who."

"I'll find him. Somehow." There was black rage in his eyes.

"Nate, calm down. Look at me," she pleaded, and he looked up. "I wasn't even supposed to tell you. If you make a big deal out of it she'll be mad at me for telling you and she'll also be embarrassed beyond all belief. She's dealing with it. She's learning that you actually can trust some men. Don't damage that."

He took a deep breath in and held it for about five seconds, and then let it out slowly. It worked, because some of the tension disappeared from his shoulders. "You're right." She raised her eyebrows and smiled at those words, but said nothing. "Not going to gloat over that sentence huh?"

"That's your M.O., not mine," she teased. "_I_ know how to just enjoy things once in a while."

"So I told you mine. What embarrassing situation did she walk in on you in?" Honestly, Nate didn't think he'd ever seen Sophie go quite that pink before.

Damn. _That's what I get for teasing him_, she thought. _Karma_. "Um. Sort of the same deal as you actually. Except in the shower. And I didn't realise it until... after."

He was laughing. He was actually trying not to, she could see that, but he clearly couldn't stop it. She glared at him. "Screw you Nate."

"I'm sorry, it's just... she really does have horrible timing, huh?" She gave it up and let herself laugh too. Really, what other reaction could she have?

He stood up and came over to her, offering her a hand. She came with him, expecting him to lead her over to the sofa. Instead, he picked up the remote for the radio and turned it up, pulling her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled as they danced. When he started kissing her about ten minutes later, she couldn't help responding. But when he pulled back to take a breath she said "I thought you wanted another story. Keep that up and I don't think I'll be doing much talking. Well, coherent talking," she said with a smirk. He smiled back but kept kissing her. Oh well. This was so much better than talking really.

"Maybe I'm hoping I can use that story for later. You know, in case I end up sitting down here arguing with that stupid bottle again tonight."

She pulled away to look him in the eyes. "Nate, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Are you listening?" She waited for his nod. "Any time, _any time_, three in the morning or three in the afternoon, whether I'm busy or not, if you need me to distract you to keep you away from that bottle, you come and find me. I mean it." He was a bit shocked at the intensity in her eyes. But he nodded. And then kissed her again, because really, he just couldn't help it. He had this weird feeling that maybe he was now addicted to her too. Which okay, was likely better for him than the alcohol. But it had its own issues. He'd been addicted to having a son too. Look how that one had turned out.

Maybe she saw something in his eyes, because she deepened the kiss and started taking off his shirt. Neither one of them heard the door open.

"Oops." They jumped apart.

"Parker!" Sophie clutched her chest. "One of these times I swear to God you're going to give me a heart attack."

Parker shifted her feet a bit and then turned to leave. "Wait," Nate said. Sophie looked over at him in astonishment. "What happened to your ankle Parker?" He pointed. Parker was standing with most of her weight on her right leg, and what weight was on her left was on the ball of her foot.

"I... I fell." She looked down, ashamed. She never fell, not anymore. She used to, when she started training with Archie. But fairly quickly it became clear that he was disappointed with her when she did, so she practiced all the time until it never happened. "My harness let go. I was only about ten feet up but... it hurts, and it won't move right. It makes these weird clicking noises." She tried to move it to demonstrate and then gasped in pain. Okay, maybe not the best idea.

"Get an ice pack from the fridge please Soph?" Nate asked. He pulled Parker's arm around his shoulder and led her over to the couch. Sitting down across from her, he pulled her shoe off, doing his best to be gentle. He rolled up her pant leg and took off her sock. And swore.

"What?" Sophie asked, and then noticed Parker's foot. "Oh Christ. Parker, you're going to the hospital."

Parker started trying to kick at Nate so he'd let go. "No way! I'm fine," she said. Nate didn't release his hold on her leg. "Let go!"

"Parker, it's okay. Soph, it might not be broken. Do me a favour and call Eliot. And then bring me the first aid kit." Parker's struggles calmed when she realised Nate wasn't going to make her go to the hospital, at least not right that second.

Sophie came back over and set the first aid kit down on the table next to Nate, still talking on her cell phone with Eliot. Nate opened it and dug through it until he found a tensor. He wrapped it around Parker's ankle, being careful not to make it too tight. Then he rested the ice pack on top of her ankle. She winced. "Sorry, honey." The term of endearment made them both blink a bit, but Nate just shook it off. "I know it hurts, but the cold will help keep the swelling down. I'm not even sure how you got your shoe on."

"Very carefully," she said. He smiled a bit. He handed her the TV control, figuring he'd better do something to keep her occupied since she tended not to like sitting still unless she was stealing something. "Hey, Doctor Who is on," she said. "I thought it wasn't on until tomorrow."

"It's a special, Parker. Best of the companions, I think." Both of them just flat out stared at Sophie. "What?" She shook her head. "Guys, I'm British. We do have our own TV, you know. It isn't all American entertainment out there." They just kept staring. "I swear, if you start teasing me I will find a way to make you regret it."

Nate dropped his eyes. He'd had enough of being punished when she'd teased him and then left that night several weeks ago. He had no desire to go through that again. Sex with Sophie was way better than sex with himself. He lifted Parker's foot and placed the ice pack underneath it, against her heel. His hands were starting to go numb from holding it on there but he'd never have admitted it.

There was an abbreviated knock on the door and Eliot walked in, Hardison right behind him. "What happened, Parker?" Eliot asked, and took Nate's spot sitting on the table across from her.

"She fell about ten feet," Nate answered, since he could see how hard it had been for her to say it the first time.

"When you landed, did you hear any popping or cracking noises?" Eliot was gently unwinding the tensor from around her foot.

"It made a little pop. But I can move it kinda. So that means it isn't broken, right?" Parker's voice was hopeful.

"Maybe. Sometimes people can move limbs that are fractured if it isn't displaced. Or if they have a very high pain tolerance. Either of those could apply to you." She blushed a bit at that statement. Coming from him it was high praise.

Hardison, meanwhile, had grabbed a bottle of orange squeeze from the fridge. He opened it, but instead of drinking it handed it to her. Then he dug in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills. "I have these from when I hurt my shoulder. They're Tylenol 3. Can she take them?" he asked Eliot. Eliot nodded. Hardison held two of them out to her but she wouldn't take them.

"I don't do drugs."

"It isn't doing drugs, Parker. They're pain pills. You'll be fine." Hardison offered them again.

"Yeah, right. Like I was fine when those idiots at that rehab centre gave me those antidepressants? No thanks." All of them remembered that. Not necessarily how happy she'd been while still on them, but what she'd been like for almost two weeks after they got her out. She'd been sullen, uncommunicative, shown no interest in anything that she liked. Hell, they'd had to force her to eat. Sophie had finally kicked off a momentous shouting match by telling Parker that if she didn't start eating again they'd take her to the hospital and put her on an IV. Parker had replied "Well it's your fucking fault I'm like this, since you were supposed to be watching the shit being done to us. You let them drug me." She'd then told them all that if any one of them so much as laid a finger on her, she'd disappear and they'd never see her again. It had taken quite a while to patch things up after that conversation.

Eliot had finished unwrapping her foot. He started moving it gently, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. He looked up at her eyes. "Parker, I need you to tell me where it hurts. And you're allowed to say ouch. Or swear. Or whatever." She nodded.

He moved her foot again and she hissed. "Instep," she said, digging her nails into her palms. Hardison put down the pills in his hand since she didn't look like she was taking them any time soon. He took her hand instead. Somewhat surprisingly, Nate took the other.

"You can squeeze our hands if it hurts Parker. Just don't break my fingers, okay?" Nate smiled at her.

She nodded. Once Eliot finished examining her ankle he rewrapped it and looked up. "Please don't make me go," she begged. He sighed softly. "I'll make you a deal Parker. You agree to do what I tell you to treat it for tonight and we'll look at it again tomorrow. But that treatment involves staying off it and taking those pills. They're gonna make you sleepy and uncoordinated, which I know you don't like. But it's that or emerg."

She swallowed hard but nodded. "How do I get home though? Even I know you aren't supposed to drive if you take those."

Four voices spoke up at once, but Nate's was the one she picked up on. "You're staying here Parker. Where I can keep an eye on you." She looked at him, a bit confused. "I don't want you going home in case that gets worse and you need the hospital. And besides, you might need some help getting to the bathroom and as the only other woman here, Sophie's elected." Nate wondered if Sophie would protest but she said nothing, just nodded.

Eliot nodded. "Take two of those now," he said, indicating the pills. "I want you to take two more every four hours, even if you don't think you need them. Tomorrow if it's not as bad you can take less, but for tonight I want you to make sure the pain doesn't get ahead of you." He watched her swallow the pills. "You need to put ice packs on once an hour for twenty minutes for the first four hours and then at least once for twenty minutes every two hours for the rest of the night."

"But what if I'm asleep? Those pills might make me sleep." She looked confused.

"Don't worry Parker, asleep or not that ankle is getting iced." Nate's comment was soft.

Eliot looked over. "Can you set an alarm for the four hours? I could stay," he started, but Nate shook his head.

"It'll be fine Eliot. Go home. Hardison, kiss your girlfriend and then you go too. She needs to rest." He walked over and started clearing off the table, and Sophie went with him.

Halfway to the sink Sophie started laughing and nearly dropped the plate she was carrying. Nate looked at her like she was nuts, so she said "See. Horrible timing." That got him laughing too.


	7. Of Nemo and Family Meetings

I borrowed from Finding Nemo for this one. :) I don't own Leverage.

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><p>Nate glanced over at the couch and smiled. The girls were there, watching a movie (Finding Nemo), and Sophie's clear enjoyment of the film was something he'd definitely torture her with later. He figured he'd finish tidying up the kitchen and then join them. He heard twin peals of laughter and looked over, noting that it was the part where Dory and Marlin (and no way would they <em>ever<em> know he'd watched this movie) were being chased by the great white shark that they'd befriended moments before. "ES-SCAP-EE" Dory said, "You know that's funny, it's spelled just like the word escape." When he finished the dishes he wandered over and sat down beside Sophie, who took his hand and leaned against him. Twice throughout the movie he got up and went to the freezer to get ice for Parker's ankle.

Nate could feel Sophie tense toward the end of the movie, where for one heart stopping second Marlin thought his son was dead. He knew she was wondering what effect it would have on him. He tightened his hand on hers briefly but didn't say anything. When the movie was over he checked Parker's eyes. The pills had sunk in. Her eyelids were drooping and she was leaning up against the side of the sofa like it was the only thing holding her up. "Why don't you help her to the bathroom," he said to Sophie. "There should be an unopened toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. I'm going to change the sheets on the bed upstairs." She looked at him in confusion. "She's not going to be comfortable either way, but a bed is still better than a couch. I'll help her up there and you can stay with her in there. Won't be the first time I've slept down here." She smirked for a second and he knew she was remembering one of two incidents: the night she'd accidently knocked him out with a cooking tray, or the night after San Lorenzo when they'd first had sex again. They'd never made it to his bed.

Sophie nodded and stood up. "Come on Parker," she said, helping the girl to her feet and supporting some of her weight. Nate changed the sheets on his bed and then came back downstairs and knocked on the bathroom door, telling Sophie that there were some extra pyjama pants and a t-shirt there for Parker. While he waited for the women to finish in the bathroom he made up his own bed on the sofa, trying hard to ignore the voice in the back of his head saying that he'd sleep much better if he'd just have one drink.

When Parker emerged from the bathroom he couldn't stop a little smile. She looked... cute. Like a little kid dressing up in her big brother's clothes. Sophie glanced at Parker, and then at the stairs a bit worriedly. Nate could almost hear her thinking that Parker wouldn't be able to tackle the stairs. "Have some faith, Soph," he said. "Parker, put your arms around my neck." She looked a little weirded out by the suggestion but did as she was told. He bent and picked her up, showing no strain at the gesture. A quick glance at Sophie's face told him that she was suitably impressed.

"I'll set my phone to alarm on the two hour mark for the ice, and I'll give her the pills every other time," he said softly as Parker closed her eyes and snuggled under the covers, almost asleep already. Sophie nodded. He turned to leave and she stopped him with a hand on his stomach. "What?"

She curled a hand into his hair and pulled him down into a searing kiss. "Just wanted to make sure you'd dream of me," she said with a slightly wicked smile.

"Soph, that was never in danger. Though I have a feeling if Eliot or Hardison knew what kind of dreams I'll be having tonight they'd never want to sit on that couch again." He kissed her again, lingering with his lips against hers and smiling. "Night."

Sophie sighed softly and climbed in beside Parker. Only problem with teasing Nate: she couldn't avoid her own arousal at the same time.

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><p>The third time Nate woke Parker up to ice her foot, Sophie couldn't get back to sleep. The other two times she'd done alright but after lying there for about twenty minutes staring at the ceiling this time she was forced to admit that either her body or her mind had decided it was time to get up. She grabbed a bathrobe and wrapped it around herself before heading down the stairs.<p>

She wasn't sure whether she should expect to find Nate drinking or not. She'd been worried about the effect of the movie this evening, but hadn't really had a chance to ask how much it had hurt him. Sophie wasn't at all surprised to find him sitting at a table putting together a jigsaw puzzle; he liked puzzles of any kind, and he was a bit of an insomniac. He looked up at her and smiled but didn't say anything, just went back to searching the table for whatever piece it was he was currently hunting for.

"I don't know how you have the patience for these things," Sophie said, blatantly ignoring the glass of whiskey at his elbow. He certainly didn't look drunk, and the bottle was nowhere in sight.

He shrugged. "My mother loved them. I just sort of... picked it up." They both grinned at that comment. Nate tended to pick up a lot of things, and often was unsure exactly where. He picked up the glass of whiskey and took a sip, glancing at her for second. Anyone else might have missed the apprehension in his eyes, but she was Sophie Devereaux. She knew.

"It's okay, Nate. I told you: if you can't quit all at once than you can't. It's enough that you're trying." She hugged him and then sat down across from him.

"So how about that story? You know, the one I would have gotten if Parker hadn't interrupted."

She tilted her head, indicating the sofa. As they sat down, he said "I have a request." She raised her eyebrows and watched him. "I want to know where you and Eliot disappeared off to after we dug Hardison out of that coffin." In the aftermath of that job, Parker had disappeared (though only as far as the bar downstairs, Nate found out) and he and Hardison had finished with Havier and his friends. It wasn't until after Hardison left too that Nate had realised that Sophie and Eliot had both disappeared within minutes of each other. Sophie had made some excuse about shopping, and Eliot had simply disappeared with a "Call me if you need me." Nate had felt a bit guilty after he'd realised they were both gone. Due to his focus on getting Hardison to safety, and in no small part because of the headache he'd had from being knocked out, he'd missed the fact that maybe the job had been just as hard on Sophie and Eliot as it had been for him.

"Why that one? And why do you assume we were together?" Sophie's gaze was simply curious, not accusing, and that may have been what prompted him to tell the truth.

"Because you said the two of you were friends. If one or both of you is suffering physically or emotionally, I'd assume that means you'd try to comfort the other. I... dropped the ball on that one. I should have seen how it effected you guys, but that meant I'd have been reminded of almost losing Hardison. And that would have reminded me of..." He trailed off and stared at the glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Sam." She said the word softly. "Nate, maybe you need to say his name more. Maybe you need to try to go through the pain instead of avoiding it."

He shook his head, not bothering to hide the fact that his eyes were wet. "Sophie, I tried. Right after he died, I did my best to always say his name. I was terrified I'd forget. The first time I woke up and couldn't remember his face was the first time I loaded a gun and put it to my head." Her heart stopped for a second at his sentence, not necessarily at the image it portrayed, but at the words 'first time'. He continued "Obviously I didn't do it. But I learned that the more I tried to force it, the harder it got to remember. Like when you get a word stuck on the tip of your tongue and can't quite figure out what it is. And then I realised that I didn't have to force it; the world reminds me of him every day all on its own. I know you were worried during that movie. But it wouldn't have mattered. Everything reminds me of him. Rain, snow, sunshine. Baseball. Hospitals. Everything."

She sighed softly. "Well you were right about Eliot and I, Nate. As is often true." At his smile, she said "Often, not always. I went after him because I needed to make sure he was okay. He never says it, but every time one of us gets into a bad situation, every time we take a risk, whether it's warranted or not, he suffers through the idea that maybe he won't be able to save us. It's a huge strain on him."

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><p>Sophie looked around at the bar. It wasn't her usual type of place. Loud country music was blaring from the speakers on the stage, and a live band was just setting up for their show. She could see them testing their instruments. She took a quick glance around, noting exits and potential dangers. After a lifetime of stealing and getting away with it, it was second nature to make sure of her surroundings. Her eyes landed on her friend. He was facing three rather burly looking men, bikers from the looks of them, and she could tell from their body language that they weren't asking for tips on how to dress. She walked over just as they started swinging.<p>

She knew she shouldn't have gotten involved in the fight. Eliot was more than capable of defending himself and she would likely only slow him down. But there was a chance that he was already injured from the fight today. She wasn't sure if he'd been distracted during the fight by the prospect of Hardison potentially dying somewhere in that graveyard. It had certainly been effecting her ability to think.

The knife one of the bikers pulled from his belt made her decision for her. She caught him with a kick between the knees, not caring that many people would have bitched that she wasn't fighting fair. Besides, three on one weren't fair odds either. She waited until the man hit the floor on his knees before catching him with a knee to the face, knocking him out. The other two were already down. "Come on," Eliot said urgently, "before the cops get here."

"Too much to hope it'd be detective Bonanno, huh?" she replied, climbing into the front seat of his car. She'd dropped her own at home and taken a cab here. That was the reason she'd been later getting here than he was: first she'd had to ask Hardison to track his phone and then she'd left her car at home in case she ended up drinking with him. "Eliot, how much did you have to drink?" she asked worriedly a second later. He cursed.

"Switch me seats," he said. He got out and went around to the passenger side of the car. She took the more direct route, sliding over into the driver's side past the gear shift. They were almost ten minutes from the bar, heading for his place, when he said "Why'd you come after me?"

Several answers occurred to her, including one snarky one involving "you're welcome for the help" but she took a deep breath and then said "You're my friend. I was worried."

"Worried why, Sophie? I'm fine." He was playing with the rips in his jeans.

"No, you aren't. I don't think any of us is fine after today." She pulled into his driveway and just sat there.

"Well if none of us is fine, then how come you aren't over at Nate's place comforting him?" If she hadn't been listening closely she might have missed the note of... Jealousy? Bitterness? She wasn't sure what it was. He was the only one who knew about her and Nate's 'friends with benefits' arrangement. She'd needed someone to tell or she'd have gone crazy. He'd accepted it calmly enough, telling her he was surprised it had taken them that long.

"Eliot, right now you need me more than he does. He's most likely well on his way to being drunk. That's how he copes. But you? So far the only way I've seen you cope is to wear yourself to a frazzle hitting that punching bag. Maybe you should try just talking about why what happened today bothers you so much."

He sighed. "Is there any chance I'm getting out of this?" She shook her head no. To which he heaved a bigger sigh and said "Fine. Come inside."

Sophie sat down on Eliot's couch. He disappeared into the kitchen briefly and then came back out with a cold pack, setting it down on her left knee. She was grateful; no matter what part of your body you fought with, if you ended up hitting someone in the head you were going to be sorry later. When Eliot had first taught her to punch he'd advised her to avoid hitting people in the face or head if at all possible, since it was sort of like hitting a rock.

"You don't know." He said the words almost like he was testing them. Sophie watched him but didn't say anything, content to let him talk. "You just... you guys take risks all the time, and..." He trailed off again, shaking his head. "I guess I can understand it. I mean, all of us were used to working alone. Flying solo. So for a long time that meant that the only person that got hurt when we messed up was us. But now I'm responsible for you guys. For your safety. And sometimes it seems like everything we do is one big risk after another. I don't think it even occurs to you guys that what one of you does effects the whole team. If Parker falls and breaks her leg or her neck, she probably thinks the world will just go on the same way. I don't think she knows that it effects all of us."

"Eliot, I know that," Sophie broke in softly. "We're a team. What effects one of us effects all of us in some way."

"No." She looked at him with confusion written on her face. "We aren't a team anymore Sophie. We're a family." Her eyes tried to well up at that statement. She tried her best to repress it; she'd already cried once today when they got Hardison out of that coffin. She hated to cry. Eliot went on. "But in every family there's someone who takes on the responsibility of protecting the others. Sometimes it's the dad, sometimes the mom, sometimes it's even the kids. But in all the most tightly knit groups that person is there. And that's me. I'm willing to take the punishment. It isn't like I enjoy being hurt, but I'd rather have them hurt me than you guys. So when you guys disregard my instructions and get hurt, or when Nate makes a plan and I say it's too dangerous and you go anyway, I still feel responsible if something happens."

"But you can't stop everything Eliot. Sometimes things just happen."

He nodded. "Yeah. And if one of you is hurt, or God forbid" he swallowed hard "dies, and I did everything I could to keep you safe, maybe I could live with that. But sometimes this team does nothing but take one insane risk after the other. And I can't blame Nate; for all that he jokes about Hardison getting hurt in his plans I don't think it's true. I think the only acceptable death in any of his plans is probably his own. And I think it would terrify us all if we knew how often he thinks about it. But the fact remains that you guys all take crazy risks and trust the world to make sure you don't die. But the world doesn't give a shit if we die. Anyone who's been where I have, hell, anyone who's been to a third world country, knows that. Nature is content to let children die all the time. It's up to us to save ourselves and each other."

Finally conceding that it was a losing battle, she let the tears fall. Eliot looked a bit stricken, but he immediately opened his arms and hugged her. She stayed there for a bit and when she pulled back she said "You're wrong you know." He looked at her but didn't say anything, perhaps afraid that he'd make her start crying again. "The most tightly knit families don't have one protector, they have several. They take turns protecting each other. I understand what you're saying about risks, and at some point in the near future I'm making everyone sit down and talk about it, because I don't think any of us realised what we were doing to you. That's how I intend to protect you. And before you try to find a way to con me out of it, since I know you're going to protest, don't even bother. If I'm not afraid of Nathan Ford and his issues, there's no way you can make me change my mind about this."

He sighed. "Knew I shouldn't have said anything," he grumbled. "They'll just say I'm being too sensitive."

"Parker won't if she wants any more advice from me ever. Hardison won't if he wants one moment of peace for the next solid year. And Nate," she grinned, "let's just say I have my ways of convincing him."

"I don't even want to know," Eliot said.

* * *

><p>"So that's where that discussion came from." Nate's eyes were distant, remembering. Sophie had called a 'family meeting' (and perhaps most surprising was the fact that no one had challenged the 'family' part of that statement.) She'd stated that she felt it was time that they all sat back and considered the risks that they'd been taking individually. He'd noticed that Eliot's eyes were a bit strange when she started talking but had been focused on what she was saying and then become distracted by an increasingly heated argument about who was the most reckless in the team. Nate had had to step in and get them back to the topic they'd originally started from. His motives hadn't been entirely altruistic; there was a Red Sox game on and he wanted to watch it in relative peace. Eventually they all agreed that their actions effected everyone else, and that if something seemed particularly dangerous they should probably run it by the others before doing it.<p>

Both Nate and Sophie were distracted by a thump. In an almost identical motion, their eyes went to the staircase. Sophie was fast, but Nate still beat her to the stairs. When they got up to the top they found Parker lying halfway into Nate's bedroom doorway, cursing.

"Parker, what the hell?" Nate said, bending down to help her up and leading her to the bed.

"I was just trying to get back to the bed," she said grumpily, and then added quickly "from the bathroom." Both Nate and Sophie's eyes went to the bathroom which was attached to his room, not the hallway.

"Parker, don't you know by now not to lie to me?" Sophie asked, amused. "Even if you were good at it I'd still notice. But you definitely aren't. Want to tell us what's up?"

The girl shifted a bit, but then said "I was listening to the story." She kept her eyes down.

"Well you could have called down and then you could have listened and been comfortable instead, you know." Sophie's statement was casual.

"I thought you'd be mad. That you wouldn't keep telling it if I was listening."

"Wrong. It wasn't some state secret." Parker still wouldn't look at her, so Sophie asked "What's wrong?"

"I didn't..." Parker shook her head. "I didn't know Eliot felt like that. That he thought it was his fault if we get hurt. Now I feel bad. I knew it was too windy last night and I went up there anyway. I never even thought about that promise I made not to do dangerous stuff." Sophie noticed that there were tears starting in her eyes and sat down on the bed, hugging her.

"Parker, accidents happen. And it takes some getting used to, thinking about whether what you're doing is worth the risk to the people who might get hurt if it goes badly. It takes time."

Parker sniffled and then said "My ankle really hurts."

"Parker, how about if Sophie and I go with you to the hospital and they can check it and maybe give you something else for the pain?" Nate asked. "We won't leave you there by yourself. If you have to stay one of us can stay with you." Parker thought about it for a long moment before she finally nodded.


	8. Chess and Impossibilities

Strangeness abounds in this one... sorry. :) I don't own Leverage.

* * *

><p>Parker glanced around nervously. She didn't like it here. There were too many entrances and exits to watch them all. And those security guards made her nervous too. Even though Sophie had reassured her that they had no reason to suspect Parker of being anything other than a pretty young woman (Sophie's words), they still made Parker's skin tingle.<p>

"Ms. White?" It took Parker a second to remember that she was supposed to be Alice White. She'd never be able to do Sophie's job. She couldn't understand how Sophie kept all those back stories straight.

"That's me," she said to the nurse that had asked.

The nurse nodded. "I spoke to the doctor and explained your symptoms. He's asked me to send you to the x-ray department so we can get a look at that ankle. We'll likely do both x-rays and a CT scan and then the doctor will look them over and see what's going on. One of your parents can go with you if you'd like." That was Nate and Sophie's alias for this.

Sophie stood up. "I'll come with her." She grabbed the handles of the wheelchair that both Nate and Sophie had insisted she sit in. Parker had protested, but it had been clear that it was more for forms sake than anything else. Sophie kissed Nate on the cheek, using it as an excuse to whisper "Are you okay?" He nodded.

* * *

><p>"Hey mister. You play chess?" Nate looked over to see an inquisitive face peering up at him. The boy might have been eight, if that. He had untidy blonde hair and a gap at the bottom of his smile where he'd recently lost a tooth.<p>

Nate looked around, but didn't see any parents. He shrugged internally. "Yep, I play chess all the time. Why?"

The boy reached in his pocket and pulled out a magnetic chess set. "I'm bored," he said. "Will you play a game with me?"

Nate took another look around, but Parker and Sophie were nowhere to be seen. Oh well. Better than sitting here thinking about all the reasons he had to hate hospitals. "Sure," he said, with a smile. The smile became a bit cocky when he said "But I'm going to win."

The boy grinned. "Nope, I will."

"Nuh-uh," Nate replied.

"Yep," the boy said, and started putting the pieces on the board. When he'd finished, he said "White or black?"

Nate spent a second thinking that really, that was an extremely complicated question where he was concerned, before he said "You go first."

The boy nodded and moved one of the white pieces. Nate countered, and it was game on. Within five minutes he was extremely impressed at the boy's skill. He'd thought he might have to throw the game, at least for a bit, so as not to make the kid look bad. Actually, he had to try a lot harder than usual. Ten minutes later he was at an impasse. There were about three options available to him at that point, but one he was sure was a trap, the other was too blatantly obvious, and he couldn't make his mind up about the third. Finally he sighed and tried the third option. Four moves later the boy suddenly looked up and said "I have to go somewhere for a while. Can you look after the board for me? Promise you won't cheat," he said sternly. Nate nodded.

"I won't cheat," he replied. The boy smiled and walked down a hallway and out of sight.

After about twenty minutes, Parker and Sophie reappeared. "They said they'll call us when the doctor has seen the x-rays. Hopefully it won't be long. You miss me?" Sophie asked.

Nate smiled. "Always."

After about another ten minutes "Alice White" was paged to the Emergency department. Parker and Sophie disappeared again.

* * *

><p>"Hello, I'm doctor Rollins. You're Alice White?" he asked Parker. She nodded. "Alright. Well, the good news is that there are no fractures in your ankle. But you did do quite a bit of damage to the muscles and ligaments. They'll heal up without surgery, but you're going to be in pain for some time. Also, you'll have to avoid putting any more stress than absolutely necessary on that joint or you could worsen the injury." Parker made a face and he noticed. "I know it's no fun, but trust me, in the long run it will benefit you. Now, I'm going to put a walking boot on you to help support the joint until it heals. You can take it off to shower or if you'll be sitting still, but otherwise you need to wear it. I'm also writing you a prescription for the pain. One of these is long acting, and you take it once in the morning and once at night. The other ones you take if your ankle is hurting you in between those. The pharmacy will give you a sheet with precautions to take while on these medications. Follow them. Don't improvise, because I don't like my patient's coming back in with an accidental overdose."<p>

* * *

><p>"You ready to go?" Sophie asked Nate. It felt like a silly question; she knew how much he hated hospitals. So she was surprised when he looked torn. It was then that she noticed a chess set that was sitting by his elbow. "Is that yours?" she asked. She'd never seen it before.<p>

"No… I was playing a game against a kid that was here earlier, but he had to go somewhere and wanted me to watch it." He appeared to struggle with himself before he sighed and said "I'll leave it with security, I guess." He stood up and walked over to the desk.

"Can I help you?" a young man asked.

"Yeah, I need to leave something with you. A kid and I were playing chess and he left it behind." The security guy nodded and Nate handed it to him.

As Nate turned to leave, the man said "Wait a second." Nate felt a flash of apprehension, unsure if maybe the man had figured out that he wasn't exactly who he claimed to be. He turned around.

"Yes?" he said politely.

"Where did you say you got this?" The man was looking at the magnetic board with far more interest than Nate felt was necessary for such a common object.

"I was playing chess with a kid while I waited for my daughter to have an x-ray," Nate responded.

"Can you describe the boy?"

Okay, this was starting to get weird. Still, Nate said "Blonde hair, blue eyes, about eight years old. Gap from one of his bottom teeth."

Now the guard looked a bit scared. "Sir… the name on this chess board… we had a kid here today by that name. Normally this would be confidential information but I suppose it'll be a big news story anyway. Paramedics brought in an eight year old that was hit by a car. I guess his little sister got into the street and he saved her. He died two hours ago."

Nate felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. "No… it had to have been someone else. Another kid with the same name. I was playing chess with him less than an hour ago. Right over there." He pointed. "Don't you have security cameras here? Check them."

The guy shook his head. "They started acting up this morning so the tech guys have them off." He looked down at the board and then slid it across to Nate. "If he gave this to you I guess there must have been a reason."

Nate was shaking his head. "But this doesn't make sense," he said, frustrated. Sophie apparently noticed something was wrong because she told Parker to wait and walked over.

"Nate, what…?" She reached out to touch him and he shook his head and backed away. She kept the hurt off her face (barely) and said, "Come on. We have to go. Nate," she said again, and this time he focused on her. He had one of the most lost looks on his face that she'd ever seen. Finally, he nodded. Just before he went to leave she saw him slip the miniature chess board into his pocket.

* * *

><p>"Is Nate okay?" Parker looked at Sophie. After stopping at a 24 hour pharmacy to fill the prescription for Parker's pain meds, they'd come back to Nate's apartment. He hadn't said anything to either of them. He'd even handed Sophie his keys in the hospital parking lot, clearly an indication that he wanted her to drive. After carrying Parker back upstairs to his bedroom he'd gone back down. Sophie had heard the door to the apartment open and close. A part of her heart wanted to insist that he wasn't downstairs in McCrory's, drinking himself into a stupor. But as good as she was at lying, she couldn't believe that one.<p>

"I hope so Parker. I'm going to go and talk to him after you're settled." She waited until the girl's eyes drifted shut before she crept out of the room, closing the door softly.

* * *

><p>"Is it okay if I sit down?" He wasn't at the bar, as she'd expected. Actually, for a few seconds she hadn't been able to see him at all and had wondered if he was there. But then she'd spotted one of his wisps of curls peeking over the top of a table over in the corner. He was sitting with his back against a wall. There was a bottle of whiskey beside him but it was still sealed; actually, she was pretty sure it was the one from his apartment upstairs.<p>

He didn't say anything but nodded. She slid down beside him, fitting herself deliberately close to his side. He was shaking.

"What do you know about hallucinations, Soph?" His voice was a bit scared.

"Not much. They're usually caused by either a drug, an illness in the brain, or… DTs," she finished. "Why? Nate, I don't think you'd hallucinate. The way you've been steadily drinking less and less lets your body get used to the lack of alcohol." He didn't look very comforted by her statement.

He picked up the miniature chess set that was sitting next to him. "Is this real?" he asked.

She furrowed her brow. What? She reached out a hand and touched it. "Feels pretty real to me. Nate, what's wrong?" She was starting to get concerned now.

Sometimes it was uncanny how he could judge her moods. He could see her anxiety, so he told her. About the kid, the chess game, what the security guy had said. He realised he was rambling and forced himself to stop, taking deep breaths. His brain kept trying to make sense out of what had happened but couldn't. He put his hands to his head, as if trying to physically force the thoughts out of his mind.

"Soph, I know I saw it. I know it. Even if I hadn't how the hell would I have gotten that chess board. But it's impossible. I…" She kissed him, and he responded automatically.

"Sorry. You were looking a little wild in the eyes there. Just breathe, okay?" she said, and took his hand.

"I just… it can't have happened."

"Why not?"

"What?"

"Why can't it have happened Nate? It isn't the first time someone's talked to a ghost. Why not you?"

"Soph, you can't believe that," he protested. "Ghosts aren't real. And they sure the hell don't sit down and play chess with some random stranger and then leave their chessboard behind!" He tapped the board for emphasis.

"Well this one did. And why do you think that is?"

"How the hell should I know?" he exploded. She raised an eyebrow, and he said "Sorry."

"Maybe he wasn't ready to leave yet. Maybe you helped him and you don't even know it."

"I just… I can't believe that Sophie."

"Why don't you just try letting it go then? Accept that something happened that you have no explanation for and leave it be. Maybe someday you'll find the answer, maybe not. But I know one thing for sure Nate. You won't find the answer in the bottom of this." She tapped the top of the bottle of whiskey.

"I didn't drink it."

"And if I tell you I'm proud of you all you'll do is scoff." He smiled slightly, pretty much confirming her assumption. "Come on." She stood up and offered him a hand. "I think we could both fit on the couch if we tried hard enough." When he raised his eyebrows she swatted him lightly. "To sleep. Men, I swear."

* * *

><p>"If I ask you something will you promise not to yell at me or hit me?" Nate's voice was quiet. "I mean, you don't have to promise to answer. It's just been driving me nuts and I want to ask but I'm afraid you'll be mad."<p>

She was lying half on top of him, head resting over his heart. After a second she said "Ask."

"You started sleeping with Eliot before that job where we were getting the Scott's house for them, didn't you?"

She sighed. "Nate, does it really matter?"

"No. It doesn't matter in context of you and I. But… remember how you stopped Eliot from kicking the crap out of me? After I insulted him?" She nodded and he continued "I think I must have known somehow that he was sleeping with you. I deliberately provoked him that day Soph. Maybe I knew somehow."

"Yes, Nate it was before that. Just before, actually."

He nodded but didn't say anything else. She looked up. "That's it? That's all you wanted, a yes or no?"

He smiled. "It's all I needed. Besides, that was then. This is now. You're the one who thinks I need to just let stuff go, remember? So I'm trying."

Sophie looked at him. He looked better than he had downstairs in the bar. Of course, he often looked better when she was in his arms. He'd deny that fact if she said it though, so she tilted her head up and kissed him. "If Parker interrupts this time so help me God," she said, and then started unbuttoning his shirt.

* * *

><p>AN I'll leave it with the reader to decide if the kid was a ghost or a hallucination... Mostly because I'm not completely sure myself!


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